


Not Like I Imagined

by Sunakku



Series: Life in the.. well.. Afterlife [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Afterlife, Canonical Character Death, Dead Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dead Wilbur Soot, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29840016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunakku/pseuds/Sunakku
Summary: Tommy didn't think the afterlife would look like this.------Or, Tommy dies.
Relationships: Jschlatt & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Life in the.. well.. Afterlife [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193732
Comments: 4
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I work on phone so I couldn't tag Mexican Dream, but he's there
> 
> also rated for Tommy's language and vague description of his death  
> This is my first dsmp writing, so criticism would be appreciated!!

This isn't what Tommy had expected the afterlife to look like. The grass was soft beneath his palms as he sat up, a frown building on his face in his confusion. A tree towered above him, blocking the light from hurting his eyes. 

He'd thought the afterlife would just be.. a vast expanse. a place to dwell on mistakes. But.. before him stood buildings that hadn't been intact in months. Ponk's Lemon Tree, The community house..

The Carmavan. Something Tommy hadn't seen since that day. When he and Tubbo had been scrambling to escape the wreckage as TNT continued to rain down, Tommy crying out as bits and pieces of Wilbur's Legacy exploded around him, not caring for the stinging ache in his arms, or the blood leaking down the side of his face. 

So, the blonde scrambled to his feet, noting as he did the lack of tears in his shoes and jeans. He ran his way towards the Carmavan, a bright grin climbing its way onto his face. It looked just as it had in its prime, back during the beginning of L'manberg. Nothing like the mess it had been at the end of Manberg, or the shoddy replica that had lived in New L'manberg (though he wasn't sure who had constructed it).

He pressed his hand onto the button, poking his head inside and deciding to rush in before the door slammed closed on him.

He admired the stone seat that sat at the front of the van for a minute, running his hand along it and getting giddy. He'd loved his days in this van, before everything had gone to shit, before he'd lost that first life. 

But he stopped the second he heard voices, muffled by the door but clearly coming from the next room. Or, well, the drug room. 

So Tommy snuck the door open, not accounting for the loud creak that would stretch out. 

And now he stood awkwardly, three pairs of eyes all turned to him. 

"Eyyy! Tomas!" 

A hand ruffled into his hair, eyes going wide. "Mexican Dream?" He was confused for a total of three seconds before it hit him. "Holy shit." He hissed. "Holy fucking shit is this where you go when you die?"

"Well, I think that'd be quite obvious." That.. that was Wilbur. Tommy stared at his brother, unsure as he stepped forwards and pulled out of MD's grasp. "Wil..?" He hadn't seen that calm smile in ages, used to the overly excited grin that Ghostbur usually possessed. Well, he had. Nobody had seen Ghostbur since the failed resurrection.

As long arms wrapped around him, he felt the realisation bubble in his chest. "Dream.. he.." He gripped into the yellow jumper, a sob building in his throat. "He wouldn't stop… no matter what I tried he wouldn't  _ stop _ ." He cried, hot tears running down his face and stinging his eyes. "He was laughing. He was  _ beating me and laughing _ ." 

He couldn't stop, sobbing into his brother's chest and wetting his jumper. 

"Fuckin' hell, if I wasn't dead that man would be squaring the fuck up." Wilbur growled, hand subconsciously tightening in the blonde hair. 

Tommy wiped his eyes. "God, I'm crying like a fucking child."

"Fitting." He sent a glare in Schlatt's direction. Of course that was the first thing he'd say. He rolled his eyes as the man took a swig from his bottle. 

"Well, welcome to the afterlife Toms. Get comfy, you're here for a long long time." Wilbur returned to his seat, patting the one beside him. Tommy sat down.

"Fucking hell."


	2. Opinions

I just need your opinions on something. Should I, instead of making this a series, make it a chapter book, so updates are easier for y’all to access and view?

I feel like it’d also make it easier to update you all and tell when there’s something going on with writing and/or any new fics I’m planning

Though I do like the structure of having it as a series, if you think it’s easier to have it as a book, I will. Just tell me what you think, so I can get it set up for before I publish pt 3 (which will be having a new character come in, so tell me who you’d think would be best for that (it can be anyone on their last life other than Tubbo) too! They won’t be appearing until the end and I want this one to get to 2000 words, so there’s still quite a while until I get to that part :-) )

Damn this is short pff


	3. Forgiveness, could you imagine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Schlatt talk.

Blue eyes peered over the edge of the table, a certain blonde crouched at the side. "What're you doing, Wil?" He questioned.

"Sewing. Thought you'd like a jumper of your own. Gets pretty cold here." The older mentioned, continuing with the intricate movements of his hand. "If you haven't noticed yet, we all have these jumpers, even if we wear something over it. Thought you'd like one."

Tommy perked up at that, nodding quickly. "Can I help?" 

Wilbur hesitated. "Maybe.. not. How about you go explore instead? You could go visit L'manberg, if you'd like. Isn't too far from here." 

  
  


Tommy thought for a small moment, before getting up and nodding. “Alright. You know what direction it’s in?” After Wilbur motioned with his finger, he was off.

You couldn’t blame him, it was his country! The one he’d seen destroyed three times over. It was funny, it had lost all three lives, just like the restrictions of the people. He was right. L’manberg wasn’t a place, it was a people. People that would continue it’s legacy, even as time went on.

Even if some worse than others, everyone had memories of it. Tommy himself, of course, had many. 

As the grass changed, trees became more plentiful, he laughed to himself as he remembered a few small things from L’manbergs glory days. Getting supplies for the first walls with Tubbo, petty arguments with Wilbur, the uniforms..

He still remembered the first day he put that uniform on. Words of pride from Wilbur, a rush of happiness at the compliments and praise he’d gotten from his brother.

That was the sole reason he’d kept the uniform. Well, he had. It had been abandoned along with Pogtopia, shoved into a packed double chest somewhere within the ravine. He wished he’d kept it, maybe put it up on an armor stand within his little dirt shack. But with everything going on, he’d completely forgotten about it. 

As he stared over L’manberg from the top of the hill, he couldn’t help but smile. 

“You should probably step back from the edge, kid. Wilbur’ll double kill me if I let you tumble over and break your leg.”

Annnd there ended his peace.

“We can still break bones in the Afterlife?” He glanced over at the ram. “I thought it was practically like being in creative?”

“Oh, you can still get hurt. You just can’t get fatigued. So, not creative, but peaceful.” Was the explanation he got. “But, of course, we do get the occasional hostile mob. Only the ones that have been taken as a pet by a player and inevitably died.”

Tommy nodded along, before carefully sitting himself down. He wasn’t gonna speak first, by any means. Even if it was in their life, and a considerable number of months ago, Tommy still had a deep despistation for Schlatt, and the things he’d done to not only Tommy, but countless of his friends.

“I remember you being louder.” It was said in the ram’s usual snide tone, the suit-clad man stepping up beside the child.

“Maybe I don’t wanna talk to you.” He spat back.

“Don’t wanna talk to your idol? I’m hurt, Tommy.”

He shoved away the hand that ruffled into his hair. “You really think you’re still my idol? Schlatt, you’ve done so much shit to me. Why in my right mind would I still idolise you?” The silence dug into his brain, and he immediately thought he'd done something wrong, scrambling to apologise.

"No, no you're right. I'm an absolute dick. Did things that people probably won't ever recover from mentally. But, you seem to have an easy enough time forgiving Wilbur." The ram sat beside him then, leaning back against one of the tattered fence posts. 

"Wh- what do you mean?" Tommy's brow creased. "Wilbur didn't do shit."

"Kid, there's no point denying it. I may have been a drunkard, but I'm not a fucking idiot. You seemed goddamn scared of him in those last few days I saw you with him."

Tommy scuffed his toe against the ground, face reddening slightly. "It.. it wasn't as bad as the shit you did." He huffed. "Wilbur didn't have a child killed. Or get married for purely political reasons."

“Didn’t he blow up a whole country AFTER winning it back?”

And the blonde was left, once again, embarrassed. He supposed that.. was true.. but forgiving Schlatt felt WRONG to him. 

“Wil’s my brother. Forgiving him is easier than forgiving you.” His foot scuffed the ground, not taking his eyes off of his white trainers for a second. 

“I’m not asking for forgiveness. I know I did shit that doesn’t deserve that. But, I want you to tolerate me. It’ll be just us and those two idiots here for a while, and it’d be nice to have someone to talk to that isn’t a damn Mexican stereotype or obsessed with playing card games.”

The blonde child let out a small laugh at that, finally glancing up at the ram man. “Fine.” He stuck with his stubborn facade. “But that does not mean I like you in the slightest.”

After that they sat in a semi-awkward silence together, Tommy drumming his fingers on his knees while Schlatt seemed to have dozed off. Around half an hour later, Tommy had slipped away to sleep too. 

  
  


“Tommyyyy. Toms, wake your arse up.” Tommy blinked his eyes open, not entirely surprised to see his older brother hanging over him, a bleary eyed ram stood behind, rubbing his eyes.

“Willll. A few more minutes?” It was reminiscent of when they were younger, Wilbur waking Tommy up so they would have time to eat before tending the farm, with Tommy having none of it and whining about going back to sleep.

“Nope, up we go!” A large whine slipped from Tommy as he was lifted bridal style into Wilbur’s arms, burying his face into his older brother's shoulder with a grumble.

“I hear you and Schlatt talked.” The older hummed, brushing a strand of hair out from Tommy’s tired face.

“Mhm.. gonna try be nice.” Tommy yawned, “Can I go back sleep now?”

He felt Wilbur’s chest rise and fall in a sigh, before he cast a small grin down to his little brother. “Fine, I’m dumping you once we get back to the carmavan, though. Maybe your buddy Schlatt will be kind enough to carry you to your bed.”

And that was all it took for Tommy to be out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like how this one turned out! Also haha repost pog pff. I can’t tag a lot of things properly, btw, as I do not have a computer and hence work from iPad and phone :’) I also write at school most of the time.


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